


61. Winter

by smiledarnyou



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 50k is a lot to handle, Also the soundtrack is so close to DnP pls listen, Dan and Phil finally get a fucking dog, Danastasia AU, F/M, I really want to do the entire movie but, M/M, Orphan!Dan, Phil as Dimitri is an underrated concept, alas, conman!Phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 07:33:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10212632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smiledarnyou/pseuds/smiledarnyou
Summary: An Anastasia/Dan and Phil crossover that no one has asked for, but yet here we are.





	

**Author's Note:**

> All of the original contents of the Anastasia film is rightfully owned by corporations I have no business meddling with. Please don't sue me. :D

“I got you a job at the fish factory. You go straight down the path until you get to the fork in the road. Then make a left-”

“Bye!” Dan turned from his matron to see the children who stood at the windows of the orphanage, waving back. They looked mournful, a few of them having tears in their eyes. Despite the frigid cold of the Russian winter, he knew they wanted to be outside. To be away from the stuffy rooms, lack of freedom and anxiety of not knowing when someone was coming to adopt them. He could sympathize with them. _I want you guys out here with me too_. 

“Are you listening-”

“Bye everybody!” He turned to his matron, polite as he could be without sounding sarcastic or biting. “I’m listening Comrade,” he said, bowing his head. 

“You’ve been a thorn in my side since I found you.” The matron pulled at the scarf looped around Dan’s neck, tugging him in the direction of the gates. Dan looked behind him one last time, calling his final goodbyes before he looked back at the iron gates. The matron tugged harder at the scarf until it fell from Dan’s neck and he began to breathe a little easier. “Acting as if you were the Queen of Sheba! Instead of the nameless account I _know_ you are. For the last ten years I’ve-” 

“‘Feed me, clothed me, you kept a roof over my head-” Dan sighed, holding up a finger with every point his matron was about to make. It was the same thing his matron and the social workers would say for the last ten years. Anytime Dan had dared to complain about the bedding, the lack of food, water or bathing, it would always be the same thing. He knows the other children had to hear it as well. 

His matron unlocked the gate with a huff, spinning on her heels to face him. “How is it you don’t have a clue of who you are before you came to us, but you can remember all of that?” 

Dan smiled, pulling the necklace from underneath his shirt. “I do have a clue to-”

She scoffed, stepping forward and snatching the delicate golden chain from his hands, Dan following her so she was unable to snap it. “I know. ‘Together in Paris,’” she mocked, her dirty fingers tracing the engraved quote on the back of golden charm. “So you want to go to France to find your family, huh?”

Dan nodded, and the matron tossed her head back with a raspy chuckle. Dan grit his teeth, stepping back and pulling the charm from her hands. Ten years of teasing and harassing him. Ten years of holding back tears and the violent urge to punch the smug smile off of the old woman’s face. The matron opened the gate doors, planting a hand on her hip. 

“Little boy, it’s time to take your place in life.” She slapped Dan’s shoulder and he walked forward, moving through the front gate doors. “In life, _and_ in line! And be grateful too!” She tossed the scarf and smirked as she closed the gate, locking it shut. “Together in Paris!” The woman cackled, heaving coughs cutting into her laughter. Dan rolled his eyes, walking the path as she instructed him to. 

He tried focusing on breathing in the fresh air of the forest, feeling the crunch of the snow beneath his feet. It was rare for him to ever leave the gates of the orphanage, only if it was to gather firewood. He wanted to enjoy the freedom while he still could. Even if it was only a five minute walk to the fork in the road.

“‘Be grateful Dan,’” he muttered, mocking her cigarette ridden voice. “I _am_ grateful. Grateful to get away.” He looked at the signs. The left pointing to the Fisherman Village, a small town which was an hour away. “ _Go left_ , she says. Well I know what’s to the left. I’d be Dan the orphan forever. But.” He looked at the sign on the right. 

St. Petersburg. He remembered one of the orphans saying St. Petersburg was where her grandmother lived before she died, and had to be brought to the orphanage. The girl explained it was a large city filled with street food, markets, entertainers and parks. It had trains where they would take people to wherever they wanted to go. “If I go right...maybe I can find…”

He looked down at the necklace. _Paris_. He remembered finding the city on a map in one of the books he read, remembered holding the book close to his heart whenever he would fall asleep and dream of his family. “Whoever got me this necklace must have loved me.” He snorted at the idea brewing in his mind. “This is crazy. _Me_? Go to _Paris_?” He laughed at himself, but the brief time and freedom from the orphanage causing the impulsive thoughts to race. 

But truthfully. It was all he wanted.

“Send me a sign! A _hint_!” Let some higher power decide, he bitterly thought. Let there be something. Let the night and morning prayers lead him to something wonderful in his miserable life. “ _Anything_!” He sat on the cold, snowy ground, waiting. Waiting for the decision to be made up for himself. Waiting for God to either strike him down or send him on the right path. 

There was a ruffle then. Crunches of snow. And a tiny bark. 

He turned to see a small mutt of a puppy tugging at the scarf in his hands. He grinned, pulling at the scarf. “Hey!” The puppy jerked harder, growling and wagging their tail. Just one more tug and the puppy had pulled the scarf from Dan’s hand and he was running. “Hey, wait a-I’m waiting for a sign here you can’t just-” 

The puppy dropped the scarf from their mouth, panting and wagging their tail, stopping and waiting for him. Dan stopped to look at exactly where the puppy had sat, and snorted. “Great. A dog wants me to go to St. Petersburg. That’s…” He trailed off, the dawning realization coursing through him. The puppy cocked their head to the side, whining as if Dan took too long to consider the coincidence of what just occurred. “OK. Fine. I can take a hint.” 

_A hint? A sign? Or is this just something that you want to do, signs or hints be damned?_

He looked up, pulling the scarf from the ground. The road on the right some how seemed brighter. The wind chill was a bit worse, but the sun looked bigger. The sky looked so much more blue. Everything looked so promising. He can feel his heart beginning to race, and he closed his eyes, breathing deeply. 

There was a song he used to sing to the younger children before they went to bed. The newer orphans never slept their first night unless they were coaxed down, feeling loved and warm and accepted. A song he thought of while cleaning the floors one day, a song that calmed him, and eased other’s minds (besides the matron herself). 

As he stood up, the puppy skipping around him in excitement, he took another deep breath. 

“Heart, don't fail me now,” he whispered, his breath catching. He laughed to himself. He was doing this, and everything was real. The breeze and snow stinging his cheeks, the snow beneath his feet and freedom just another step away. “Courage, don't desert me, don't turn back now that we're here…”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“OK, very nice, very nice, thank you.”

The man sent Phillip a wink, collecting his coat and script, walking briskly off stage. Phillip glanced over at PJ, seeing him cross out the man’s name with multiple slashes. He smirked at his lack of disinterest, and leaned back against the seat. “One last audition Peej,” he whispered. “And we’ll be done for the day.”

“Thank God,” PJ muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t think I can handle anymore fake Daniels today. I really don’t.” 

“Next please.” They both watched as another man crossed the stage, dressed in what appeared to be 15 layers of lion skins. He had the right features of the man they were looking for. Dark hair, brown eyes. The freckles could be added with some makeup, but they could work with him. The man did not bother introducing himself with a name, but instead dramatically dropped the coat on the floor, revealing a scandalously tight suit, cigarette held between his fingers.

“Grandma,” the actor breathed, one hand on his heart, the other hand sweeping dramatically towards Phillip and PJ. “It’s me. _Daniel_.”

Phillip heard PJ whimper before his forehead hit the table. “Thank you,” he coughed, sliding the papers from underneath PJ’s forehead. He gave the man a friendly smile as he crossed off the last name from the list. “We’ll contact you as soon as we go through the other auditions.” The man nodded, taking his coat and sashaying off the stage. 

“It’s finally over?” PJ whispered.

“It’s over. For now.” Phillip heard him moan in pain and he slapped his back. “C’mon. Let’s get some drink in you so you can forget about tonight. And yesterday. We can go through the castings tomorrow.” 

“There is no castings. There’s no one.” PJ sat up, taking the papers and shoving them in his leather bound sack. “But yes. You will be getting me some drinks. Preferably a whole bottle.” Phillip hummed at that, pulling PJ out of the theatre and onto the streets. PJ opened his sack again and leafed through the papers, tossing the unwanted names onto the frozen road. “This one had the right looks, but was too damn quiet and nervous. Imagine sending that to the Empress. And then this one matched nothing at all. How are you going to audition for the role of a royal prince, if you don’t even bother to look the part?”

“We’ll find our Daniel, Peej. He’s just right under our noses.” He brushed past a man and a beggar on the street, accidentally getting to close and bumping into him. The beggar let out a small complaint, but he paid him no mind. He pulled a small jewelry box out of his coat pocket, squeezing it tight. “If anything, we find the guy who looks the part and we just hand him this. If the Empress finds out he has Daniel’s actual music box, she’ll have no doubt he’s the real deal. And before she catches on, we’ll be off spending the ten million euros. Simple as that.” 

“Simple,” PJ scoffed. “Sure. Easy as that.” They walked to the back gate of the abandoned palace, trying to keep their spirits high with reminding each other of the previous auditions. Philip held a bit more confidence than PJ could that this would work, but he had plans developing for years. Ten years to be exact. 

He was once the servant kitchen boy for the proud royal family, and now he was a conman. The once brave young boy at twelve years old who saved the Empress and young Duke from execution, was now living in the abandoned palace, looking for the real Daniel. Or, rather perhaps he was looking for the real Daniel before. There was too long of a disappearance to make things a reality. 

The executioners had the real Daniel, he was sure. He had d the best he could. He had picked up the music box Daniel had left behind when he ran through the trapdoor. He wanted to see the Empress. He had wanted to see her, be acknowledged as the man who saved her life all those years ago. But not until he had the lost Duke. 

Once the Empress made the news of rewarding the return of Daniel for the ten million in whichever currency was needed, Philip sought his chance. He needed the money. He could never continue his living with conman money, living off of expired and faked visas for the poor, living in a palace that was once grand, but now in shambles. He was grateful for PJ, finding him when he did. He needed connections, and he also needed a friend. Someone who was kind to him, but brutal in honesty. 

He also needed to find his Daniel, and he needed to do so soon.

They finally made their way into one of the royal guest libraries, cracking open a bottle of the kitchen’s red wines and relaxing on the cushioned seats. Philip laid back, closing his eyes, flexing his legs, feet and toes. “How about we just go to Paris? Do you think there will be some Russian actors in Paris? Or someone who can mimic a regal Russian accent?” he asked. “I mean Paris is practically filled with hopefuls. We find one there and we give him to Sophie and we’re done.”

“That’s a lazy way of putting it.”

“I don’t mean to say it like that, but sure. Lazy. Easy. Whatever you want to call it.” He stood up from the chair and went to light a fire, when he heard something being crushed. It echoed through the halls. Like someone was tearing down one of the walls. “Did you hear that?”

“Yes.” They immediately ran from the library. They’ve had their fair share of vandalizers and robbers. Either people wanting to steal from the royal family, make some money to leave the poor state of the country, or just to spite the fallen royal family. To destroy and soil the family’s property was to spit on their graves. 

And Philip was not tolerant of such behavior. 

They ran to the grand hall, tracing the sound of the ruckus. “Got your knife?” PJ breathed. 

“Always. Have yours?” Phillip panted. Even if he was in physically attractive shape, he was nowhere near the level of physical stamina he needed to be. They always had their fair shares of criminals, but the irregular nature was not enough to train them. 

“Always.” They slowed a bit at the sounds of someone singing, giving each other a look. It was a beautiful sound, yes. But the man singing was also a trespasser, and they needed to stay on guard. They ran onto the grand hall’s balcony, looking down onto the dance floor. A man sat in the middle of the floor, legs tucked underneath him and hands folded in his lap. Phillip recognized him immediately as the beggar he bumped into on the street. 

“Hey!” The man jumped, looking at them with a shocked, wounded expression. “Hey, you can’t be in here!” The beggar tripped over his legs, beginning to run up the opposite staircase, heading in the direction of one of the broken walls. Phillip shouted after him, chasing him with PJ close behind. “Stop, stop, stop!” The man screeched to a halt in front of the family portrait, seeming to surrender, knowing he was caught. “Now how did you get in...here.” He froze, staring at the beggar. Or, what appeared to be a beggar. 

The young man was dressed in an old yellow shirt, black work pants and leather shoes that threatened to fall apart if he took so much as one step. A gold necklace looped around his neck, a blue and golden charm laying against his chest. The young man was panting in exertion, his eyes wide with fear, shrugging his shoulders to answer Phillip’s question. On a closer look, he saw his eyes were a warm brown. A common color to find when it came to the auditions, sure, but there was something familiar with the anxiety lingering there. The young man’s hair was wet and curly from the melted snow, one curl in particular hanging over his eyes. He had a soft jawline, but high cheekbones and two little freckles on one side of his face. 

Phillip’s eyes moved to the royal family portrait behind the young man, then back to the man himself. The young man stood right where Daniel stood. The soft, round young Daniel in the portrait was close facially to the young man who stood in front of him. The young man was taller, slender but of course it had been ten years. Daniel was bound to have changed physically, but the facial features were still there.

He was perfect. 

PJ finally stood beside him, cutting Philip from his frozen state. “Excuse me child, but-”

“Peej, wait,” he breathed, stopping him from scaring off the man. He pointed and whispered to him. “Do you see what I see?” 

He shook his head, but adjusted his glasses so he could. One look at the man and the portrait had him nodding. They both grinned to each other, the same plan psychically connecting with each other. They looked back to the man, who seemed to grow less fearful, but weary. 

“Are you Phillip?” he asked, sounding rather annoyed. A puppy who had been standing beside him, barking at them, now was sniffing at PJ’s feet. PJ picked up the dog, cooing at the energetic gray looking mutt, and Phillip sauntered forward. 

“Well, it depends on who’s looking for him,” he laughed. The man nodded, relief relaxing his features. He walked forward to meet Phillip half-way, crossing his arms behind his back.

“My name is Dan, I need travel papers.” Philip froze again in shock at the name. It was too good to be true. Dan looked over at PJ, and leaned in to whisper, his brown eyes almost entrancing him. “They say you’re the man to see, even though I can’t tell who suggested it.” Philip nodded, beginning to circle him. Dan let out a noise of confusion as Philip walked around him to get a closer look. He was a handsome man, who just needed a tad bit of grooming. 

“What are you doing?” Dan asked, turning around to meet him as Philip was glancing at his back. He crossed his arms, Philip smiling at the amount of irritation that crossed his face. “What were you, some kind of vulture in your past life?”

“I’m sorry Dan,” he bowed sincerely, waving to the portrait. “It’s just that you look a lot like, um.” He held his tongue. He needed to ensure his plan would work. He needed to discuss things with PJ before his expectations fell short. He grabbed PJ to make him stand by his side. “So, you said something about travel papers?” 

“Um. Yes.” Dan’s irritation melted away, a smile gently digging a dimple into his cheek. _Perfect_. “I wanted to go to Paris.”

Too perfect. “You’d like to go to Paris?” Phillip repeated, looking over at PJ. PJ was too busy paying attention to the dog, and Phillip grabbed at him. “Now let me ask you something. Dan, was it? Is there a last name that goes with that?” 

Dan frowned. “Well. Actually. This is going to sound crazy. But I don’t know my last name.” He sighed. “I was found wandering around when I was eight years old.” 

Who was this person being handed to him on a silver platter. “And what happened before that? Before you turned eight?”

“Look, look, I know it sounds strange, but I don’t remember.” He gripped at the charm hanging from his neck. “I have very few memories of my past.”

“Hm. Well. That’s perfect.” 

“However, I do have a clue. And that’s Paris.”

“Paris?” God help him. He never did much good to get God’s help in his past life, but God help him.

“Right, so can you two help me or not?” 

“Well. Oddly enough.” He jabbed his elbow into PJ’s side, and PJ comprehended, pulling out four yellow tickets. They were counterfeit tickets to a Russian circus, but they were perfect for the moment. “We’re going to Paris ourselves.” Dan broke in a grin, the dimple reappearing again, even deeper this time. “And we’ve got three tickets, but unfortunately the third is already going.” He nodded to the direction of the portrait. “That’s him. Daniel.”

Dan looked at the portrait, head leaning towards the side. “Oh.” 

“We’re going to reunite the Grand Duke Daniel, with the Empress, his grandmother,” PJ explained. 

“And you really do resemble him,” Phil said, looking at him up and down again. Instead of being annoyed with the vulture like glance again, Dan seemed impressed by the suggestion. 

“The same brown eyes,” PJ chimed in. “Nicholas’s eyes, the smile.”

“Andrea’s chin.” 

“And the same gentle hands as his grandmother.”

Phillip gave him a look for that one, but he continued on. “The same age, the same physical type.”

Dan began to laugh in disbelief. “Are you trying to tell me that you think _I_ am Daniel?”

“All I’m trying to tell you is that I’ve seen thousands of men all over the country, and not one of them looks as much as the Grand Duke as you do,” Phillip said, gesturing to the painted young Daniel. “I mean, look at the portrait!” 

Dan snorted, poking at him. “I knew you were crazy in the beginning, but now you’re both just mad.” He began to walk away, crossing his arms. 

“Why?” Phillip stopped him from walking away, blocking his path. “You don’t remember what happened to you before you were eight, do you?”

“No one knows what happened to him,” PJ added, resting a calming hand on his shoulder. 

“You’re looking for family in Paris.” Phil kept a more calm and levelheaded approach. He knew he was getting too excited and he did not want to let Dan go. Dan held onto his necklace again, looking down at the charm and gripping it tight. 

“And his only family lives in Paris!” PJ assured. 

“Have you ever thought of the possibility?” Phil walked him back to the portrait so he could look at it again. The dog left PJ and Dan picked him up, holding him securely against his chest.

“That _I_ could be royalty?” They both nodded with enthusiasm, encouraging her. “Well, I don’t know, it’s kind of hard to think yourself as a duke when you’re sleeping on a damp floor.” Phil went to pet the dog, but the dog growled at the offer of his hand. “But sure. I guess every lonely person dreams of being royalty.” 

“And somewhere one little boy is,” PJ whispered. Phillip walked away from Dan, to let that sink in. “After all, the name Daniel is significant in royalty.” Philip rolled his eyes, sighing and looking at his watch. “Daniel will rise again.”

Phillip interrupted them, gripping PJ’s shoulders. “Really wish we can help, but the third ticket is for the Grand Duke Daniel. Good luck!” He pulled PJ from Dan’s side, walking away and leaving Dan to the portrait. PJ looked at him, startled by his sudden apparent change of heart. 

“Why didn’t you tell him about our brilliant plan?” PJ asked.

“All he wants to do is go to Paris. Why would we give him any of the reward money?” It seemed logical enough. It was hard to split ten million three ways, and besides. Dan would be treated like royalty, so money would never matter to him anyway. As long as Dan was surrounded by those riches, the reward money meant nothing.

“I’m telling you, we’re walking away too soon,” PJ hissed. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got this all under control.” He held onto PJ’s shoulder. “OK, now, walk a little slower.” They walked slower, taking a leisurely pace as they walked down the staircase. He can practically feel the tension coming from upstairs, knew that Dan was staring at that painting, imagining himself as royalty. “3...2...1-”

“ _Phillip_!”

PJ grinned. “Right in the palm of your hands.” Philip shrugged and turned to see Dan running down the steps, chasing after them. 

“Philip, wait!”

“Yes?”

“If I don’t remember who I am, then who’s to say I’m not a prince or a duke or whatever he is, right?” Dan asked. 

Phillip pretended to consider his question. “Mmhm, yes, go on?” 

“And if I’m not Daniel, and the Empress will certainly know right away, and it’ll all just be an honest mistake!” 

“Sounds plausible.” 

“But if you _are_ the Grand Duke, then you’ll finally know who you are, and have your family back!” PJ added. 

Good one, PJ. “Y’know, he could be right! Either way it gets you to Paris.”

“Right!” Dan offered his hand to shake with Phillip, which Phillip regretted, with the amount of strength Dan used to grip him. He shook his hand, rubbing at it to ease the soreness, and then gestured to the empty dance hall. “May I present to you, your Royal Highness, the Grand Duke, Daniel.” 

Dan giggled at that, but his eyes were so full of wonder and possibility. Philip felt a bit terrible at getting the poor boy’s hopes up, but since when has being a conman ever led him to being a soft heart? “C’mon now. Let’s go.”

“So, are we going to walk to Paris?” 

Phillip smiled, sending PJ a private smile before looking back to Dan. “We’ll take a boat to Germany,” he said softly, resting his hand on Dan’s arm to guide him. 

“Oh. Then we’re walking to Germany.”

“No, your Grace. We’ll be taking a bus.”

“A bus. _A bus_.” The dreamy tone of Dan’s whisper made Phillip bite back a smile, PJ hiding his with the back of his hand. “That’s nice.” 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Sophie! _Sophie_! PJ is on his way!” 

Dan looked up from the dog (adoringly now named Pooka) in his lap, pausing mid-stroke. “Sophie?” He looked to Phillip, who was leaning against the tree, watching PJ with amusement as he danced in the middle of the dirt road. “Who’s Sophie?” he asked. Phil’s smile faded a bit at the question as PJ paused, turning to Dan. 

“Sophie? Who’s Sophie?” PJ walked over to them, fixing his handmade flower crown on his head. “She’s the absolute sweetest-”

“PJ,” Phillip hissed, pushing him away from Dan. Phil looked back at Dan, shaking his head with toothy grin and laughing almost forcefully as PJ continued to monologue under his breath. Phillip whispered something to him, but the nostalgia and wonder never escaped PJ, as he continued to rattle on. In his lovestruck state, he took Phil’s hand, holding him in a waltz stance. 

“She’s a decadent pastry,” PJ continued on with a dreamy sigh, twirling a hopeless Phillip around. “Filled with cream and laughter.” He dipped Phillip, Phillip’s head nearly in Dan’s lap. Dan looked down, not bothering to stop Pooka from giving a wet lick to Phillip’s cheek.

“Is this a person or a cream puff?” Dan smirked, his dimple digging into his cheek. Before Philip could laugh, PJ pulled Philip away from Dan’s lap, accidentally pivoting too fast. Phillip’s feet tangled and he tumbled onto the ground, but PJ paid him no mind, continuing on his dream-like state. 

“She’s the elusive Empress’s first cousin!” 

Confusion filled Dan. Cousin? They said nothing about visiting a cousin, especially a royal cousin. “But I thought we were going to see the Empress,” Dan mumbled, rising from the suitcase. He turned to PJ, who was still humming along. “Why are we going to see her cousin?” When PJ clearly was in his own mindset, he turned to Phil, who looked extremely guilty as he lifted himself from the ground. “ _Phillip_.”

Phillip had the mind to look the very least embarrassed, fingers sheepishly lacing together as he walked up to Dan. “Well,” he began nervously. “Nobody gets to see the Empress herself without convincing Sophie first.” He offered the biggest grin he could muster, but the anxiety coursing through Dan wasn’t enough to ease him. 

“Oh no. _Not me_. No, nobody ever told me _I_ had to prove I was the grand Duke!” Dan wanted to cry. Never in his life had he ever been able to impress an adopting family. So what made them think they could impress a royal Empress? 

“Look, I-”

“Show up, yes. Look nice, _fine_. But to lie?”

“You don’t have to lie! What if it’s true?” 

Dan huffed, walking away, too overwhelmed by the idea of being interviewed. He remembered the families coming in before to meet him, and never seeing them again. 

“It’s just one more stop along the road to finding out who you are. I thought this was just one something we had to see through to the end no matter what.”

“But _look_ at me, Phillip, I am not exactly Grand Duke material here!” Phil seemed to take his demand well enough, eyes moving from Dan’s own, slowly gazing down the length of his body. Dan growled in irritation and turned on his heel, stomping in the direction of PJ on the bridge. PJ was watching the whole conversation with an amused smile, Pooka tucked underneath his arm and a rose in his hand. He handed the rose to Dan, assuring there were no thorns to prick his fingers. They leaned against the railing of the bridge, Dan stroking the soft petals of the rose as he began to relax his body.

“Now my child,” PJ said gently, waving to the water. “What do you see?”

Dan stared at his reflection in the rippling water. He looked at his distorted features, the uncombed curls of his hair looking even more ridiculous than they were before. “I see a skinny little nobody,” he grumbled. “With no past, and no future.” He let the rose fall from his hand, the flower blocking his reflection, the colors and shapes rippling and distorting again. He heard PJ sigh beside him, and felt a finger on his chin. He looked to see PJ smiling, not in the same jovial way or the dreamy one he had when he talked about Sophie. It was much softer, warmer. 

“I see an engaging and _fiery_ young man.” Dan relaxed and smiled at that. “Who, on a number of occasions, has shown a regal command equal to any royal in the world. And I have known my share of royalty.” He looked over to Phillip, and then leaned in to whisper in Dan’s ear. “You see, _I_ was a member of the Imperial Court.” 

Dan grinned at the notion of such a tender man being a part of something so regal and large. But then again, what was the notion of him possibly becoming royalty? Why not accept this as well? He looked back at the water, seeing the reflection had smoothed out again. He looked at himself. He imagined himself with a hair trim and expensive clothes. He imagined himself surrounded by other royal peers. He imagined a crown on his head. If he just opened his eyes a bit more, he could begin to see himself as something worthy, something coveted. 

“So.” Philip stood by him, grinning. Dan tucked himself closer to PJ, still upset that he withheld the information from him. But then again. PJ neglected to tell him as well. “Are you ready to become the Grand Duke, Daniel?”

Dan bit his lip, looking at the reflection and looking away, a bit hopeless again. He wasn’t sure. He couldn’t be sure. 

“There is nothing left back there for you, my dear,” PJ said softly. “Everything is in Paris.” 

He was right. They were right. He didn’t want to go back to the orphanage. He didn’t want to work in a fisherman’s village. He wanted to find his family. 

He looked up, smiling at PJ, and then Phillip. “Gentlemen. Start your teaching.”


End file.
